


Book Club

by Daydreaming_Chimera



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ashe and Petra are low-key mutually crushing, Because shipping wars are hurtful and dumb, Books, Budding Love, But there is some shipping fuel, Crushes, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, I'm sorry I memed on Fates a little, Implied Linhardt/Marianne, Linhardt sleeps through everything, Literature Clubs, Mercedes made cookies, Poking fun at shipping wars, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), References to other games in the series, for a split second, not overly shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26842798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreaming_Chimera/pseuds/Daydreaming_Chimera
Summary: In which two close friends are invited to discuss literature with other classmates.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Petra Macneary, Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 20





	Book Club

**Author's Note:**

> I live! :3  
> Apologies that I haven't written in so long, a lot of life things came up. ^_^;  
> Anyway, it's been a good long while since I've last touched Petrashe (though in all honesty I really need to write them post-timeskip sometime, I keep writing them in the academy phase and I don't know why), so why not give them a little love?  
> This somewhat ties in with Out of Step, and it takes place about a month before I think. As such I wanted to write Ashe's POV for this one to compliment Petra's POV in Out of Step.  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy! I'm sorry it's so long! ^_^;

“Ah, what word is this one?”

All at once the bubble in Ashe’s head popped, the arresting imagined imagery of the story he was reading jolting back to the everyday setting of the library, towers of books surrounding him and empty tables ahead, a pile of novels to his right and a wonderful friend to his left. It was a pity, he was really starting to envision the scene before him, _feathers drifting down from the sky as a sudden bolt of a javelin struck down an assassin, and descending from the clouds came a pegasus knight gracing the presence of the well-armored nobleman, hooves delicately touching the otherwise treacherous marshland ground. There was more to the story than that, naturally, but more importantly-_

He looked over his shoulder and at the word Petra’s finger underlined. In particular, while Ashe had hoarded his default favorite subgenre of literature and was reading through each novel one by one, Petra had selected a field research guide on known marine life. In the midst of all the notes and accounts, on the top of the right page was an illustration of a massive, beastly fish with rows of teeth.

“Umm,” he carefully observed the writing, reading the sentence up until the word she pointed at. “…Olfactory.”

She scrunched her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes, trying to get a grasp of such a large word in a foreign tongue. “Oaf…olf…”

“His sense of smell, basically.”

Petra’s expression lit up and jaw dropped slightly with satisfaction. “Ah, I now am seeing it.”

At that, they both returned to their respective books, and he was re-emerged into the fray.

As the words blended back into images in his mind, Ashe was treated to a humorous surprise _as this majestic sky warrior saucily demanded payment from the nobleman, who sputtered indignantly at the request._

_Impudent as the pegasus knight’s demeanor was, she was a very potent fighter, and dizzyingly intelligent as indicated by how effortlessly she calculated the exact initial payment she needed and for what, and as such the commander of the motley group of heroes had decided to sell a priceless treasure, a rare badge of honor used to embolden seafaring warriors to superhuman levels of strength, to pay for her services. After the fact, the pegasus knight winked at the nobleman, red in the face, and flew off to confront the enemy further in the swamp. Their enemy, lurking deep within abandoned fortresses taken over by nature, was a homicidal disgraced noble who had taken allegiance with a criminal organization, and as he plotted his next move, the heroes slashed their way through the thickets to engage in combat with his underlings…_

“…What book exactly are you making looks at?”

And his reverie was broken once again, but honestly, he didn’t mind. This chapter always scared him with how viscerally cruel the foe was, and it was always nice to share things he was passionate about, especially to passionate people.

Ashe blinked a few times to let the question sink in as the pictures released their grip from his brain, the wisps of the marshland imagery slowly evaporating. “Oh, it’s an old favorite of mine.” He moved the built-in bookmark to the page he was at and closed the novel, showing her the exquisite cover. “The Saga of Two Swords, it’s got quite a few volumes to it, this is only volume two…and it’s the version I prefer out of many.”

Petra cocked her head, a somewhat perplexed glimmer swirling in her eyes. “Many versions? I do not have understanding.”

He bit his lip with a mild shrug before placing the book down, trying to find the right words. “Well, the original story went through some changes over time due to various bards making their own tweaks to make it, in their eyes, better, and as a result when they had to translate it from oral to written, there were different versions of the book.” Ashe paused for a bit, thinking over each of the changes, and laughed just a little. “Honestly, they’re not that different. It’s mostly who romances who, and some more minor characters die in some versions while they live in others, but ultimately the story is the same.”

“Ah, I have understanding, now.” Petra stated, opening her sentence by quietly gasping with exclamation. “This is similar to home, different family clans had different ways of telling our traditions. I will be telling you this later, I do not wish to be boring you."

He smiled at her, earnestly as he could. “You’re never a bore.” There was never a dull moment around her.

She smiled back, a bit shyly, turning her gaze away for a bit. A part of him felt quite awkward, like he said something he shouldn’t have, but it was the truth.

“…Thank you.” She practically mumbled, almost as quietly as she would have if there were people present, and it had been quite some time since that last happened. Ashe considered that maybe that’s why their interactions here were rather…clumsy. While they’d met in the library, and used to read together all the time before she transferred to his class, it’d been a while since he and Petra really sat down and read. Ever since Flayn had been rescued, it had mostly been just him showing her around town, making small talk and finding activities to participate in or at the very least spectate. Not that he minded; it was a bit of a shock at first, but Petra’s enthusiasm for daily life was infectious. Even just the simplest errand runs were _adventures_ to her, and things he’d considered routine intrigued her to the point he could see the stars in her eyes. It was captivating, honestly. Still, it was a bit sobering that they didn’t read together as much as they used to.  
  
As more and more awkward silence passed, Ashe felt like he should break it somehow.

“So, what are you reading about?” He sheepishly inquired her. He already knew, but asking would only be polite.

Petra softly chuckled with the slightest of shrugs. “Your scholars wrote about the ocean. I was hoping to be reading their understandings of it.” Her smile straightened out, but the fire in her eyes grew brighter. “There is little writing on it, but I do have learnings to some amounts.” Her eyes glanced between his own and the book once or twice. “Sometimes, a man who fishes would send unidentified creatures to scholars to be studied anam…anot…anman….” She shook her head in frustration. “Their bodies would be studied. Other times, the scholars would be going to the ocean and seeing the creatures alive.” It was then that she picked up the book and showed him at face-level a drawing of the fish she was reading about, the same monster with a mouth full of swords he peered at over her shoulder before, designed to swiftly rush through currents and tear prey to pieces before it knew what hit it. “This is what is called by my people a _mali!_ A fish that is the king of fishes! It is a hunter of all, even birds in the sky!” Her voice began to climb in volume as her tone grew more and more thrilled. “I have seen one in my home, but never alive. If they wash ashore, it is meaning that bloody times will come, so if you see one, it is not a good sign.”

“Really?”

“Yes. To Brigid, they are sacred creatures, souls intertwined with warriors. If they die, a warrior will be dying. They are cherished, but they are dangerous and unable to be predicted. They are weak for shining things, and attack what glitters.” Petra returned the book to her lap and began to paraphrase the words within. “This book is saying that they are having a good olfactory sense. They smell weakened beasts, and ram into them to make them stunned so they may be catching them. If there is blood in the water, they can be sensing it very well.”

Ashe rested his cheek on his hand, grinning a bit wider than normal, he loved the way she talked when she was ardent about something. Fish were interesting, if a bit weird, but the way she talked, she could make counting grains of sand sound exciting.

“It reminds me a bit of how you are often strongly smelling of peppermint.”

At that, he could feel his face grow red from embarrassment. Embarrassment over that she noticed, something, he couldn’t tell, all he knew was that his cheeks had grown very, very warm very, very quickly.

“…Uhhh…” was all Ashe could muster in response.

Petra began to look away just a bit, looking as if she felt like she said something wrong. “It is not a bad smell, I am just curious as to why that is.”

“I…uhhh…” Ashe wanted to shut his eyes, pull his hood up and roll on his side in bashfulness, but that would make things doubly awkward -not to mention, melodramatic-, and he’d rather not make a scene. “I like putting peppermint oil in the rinse water of my laundry…” he honestly replied, pausing to chuckle nervously. “I think it smells really nice is all…”

She smiled, oh dear she smiled. “I am having agreement, I had never been thinking of doing that. Will it be working with other plant oils? I am thinking of trying it with orchid when I am next seeing it sold.”

“I, uhh, it should?” At this point, he couldn’t keep back the mousy laughter, the hand his cheek rested on drifting to his forehead, covering his eyes.

Petra silently paused for a minute before giggling in such a genuinely amused manner. “You are so red!” Ashe dared not look at the face she was making at risk of growing even _redder_. All he could do was reply with more timid, sputtering chuckling.

She leaned over to lower his hand from his face, to which he coyly turned his head to face her, a big, silly grin crossing her face. “I will be trying the oil trick sometime.”

His smile changed from insecure to something a bit more earnest. “It, uhh, I hope it works well for you.”

She regarded him for just a bit longer, his eyes darting between her smile and her eyes, before she returned to her book, and he did likewise.

It was a little bit harder getting his head back into the story, though. Even harder when he heard footsteps and voices come down the hall towards the entrance to the library, voices he knew.

“For the fourth time, bribing girls with dates is _not_ how we’re going to get signatures!”

“Hey, you said every name on the petition counts, you’ll thank me later.”

“I want people who are _genuinely_ interested, and if someone has to be bribed, that means that they’re not interested.”

He knew those voices all too well.

“Okay, okay, fine, we’re here.” Sylvain’s voice finally came clear as he and Ingrid entered the room. “We’ll ask around if it makes you feel better, but I’m just saying I was only trying to help.”

“Honestly, I think _you’re_ the one who needs help.”

“Are you volunteering?” Sylvain said in such a way where one could practically hear his eyebrows wiggle.

“Are _you_ volunteering to have a bump on your head?”

Sylvain immediately ceased talking and shuffled away to help Ingrid scout the library for volunteers. Ashe and Petra were hidden fairly away from their field of vision, so they weren’t noticed immediately, but out of the corner of his eye Ashe could see that his two classmates were somewhat crestfallen seeing the library unusually empty until Sylvain turned his head in Ashe and Petra’s general direction.

“Targets spotted at eight o’clock.” The nobleman wryly remarked to his companion with a doglike smirk. Ingrid promptly looked over her shoulder, empty quill absentmindedly and somewhat agitatedly tapping against the parchment she had attached to a small board. Green eyes lit up slightly as she fully turned around to walk towards her classmate and his friend, her accomplice following close behind.

Ingrid finally stood in front of the two and looked down to make eye contact. “Good afternoon, Ashe. Petra.”

“Nice to see you, Ingrid.” Ashe fairly naively greeted Ingrid. He knew she wanted him and Petra for something given what he overheard, but what, he wasn’t certain of quite yet. Petra nodded in acknowledgement, given she and Ingrid hardly, if ever, talked, and had only really shared a homeroom class ever since last month.

“Finally caught you, both of you always end up scampering off to the marketplace every time we get some space in our schedules. We hardly see you these days since Her Ladyship keeps stealing you away from us.” Sylvain remarked in an irreverent manner, pacing slowly behind his associate with his hands in his pockets. “I could tease you on that, but I’m feeling merciful, today.” By which, he clearly meant that he was already on thin ice. The young man didn’t bother standing alongside Ingrid, rather, he pulled up a chair from the adjacent table and sat down, slouching over go get as close to eye level with his classmates as he could. “What’s up?”

Ashe briefly lifted the book to such an angle in order to show off the cover, Petra quietly observing the conversation unfold. He didn’t miss how Ingrid’s eyes briefly flashed with a hopeful sort of spark. “Reading.”

“Saga of Two Swords, nice.” The young nobleman across from them verbally acknowledged with a slight smack of his lips.

The sparks in Ingrid’s eyes started turning into a fire, her spine fully straightening out with enthusiasm as she tucked the parchment board under her arm and her grip tightening on her quill. “An exceptional choice. What version, exactly?”

As Ashe was about to open his mouth, Sylvain decided to interject, tugging at Ingrid’s sleeve by the elbow. “Hey there, don’t get distracted. He can tell us all about it if he shows up.”

Now, Petra finally decided to speak, closing her book slowly and carefully. “Where will he be showing up?” To which, Ashe had to say was a good question.

Ingrid quietly gasped in a somewhat humiliated fashion, clearing her throat and folding her arms as the fire dimmed. “Well, it’s still up in the air, but…”she held the board with both hands, turning it around for the paper clipped to it to face her two-member audience. “I decided to start a petition to organize a proper literature club.” A slight smile began to form on Ingrid’s face as she explained further. “We don’t necessarily have one yet, but Seteth said if enough people were interested, he’d give us permission to start hosting meetings in the library every Wednesday after supper. I was actually hoping we’d run into you since I know for a fact you’d be interested.”

“Ah, yes.” Petra chimed in with a chipper tone, scooting closer to Ashe while accidentally shoving a small pile of books into him. “You are ‘reading buddies’, yes?”

Sylvain snickered before Ingrid nudged him in the shoulder with her elbow. “Well, yes.” the noblewoman confirmed plainly. “He’s a guaranteed signature, and not counting _the three false ones-_ ”

“I said it once, and I’ll say it again,” Sylvain interrupted. “You’ll thank me later when you run a few signatures short of a successful petition.”

“…Yours would bring us to the halfway point.” She finished her sentence, inching the parchment closer to Ashe. “I’d appreciate any support you could give, in order for our more story-loving friends to discuss at length tales of chivalry and heroism with like-minded people.”

Ashe blinked, but then grinned. Maybe it was a bit hasty, but to him, the answer was rather simple. “Sounds fun.” He answered cheerfully as he reached for the board. Ingrid paused for a minute before searching the table Sylvain was sitting at for an inkwell, filling the quill and handing it to Ashe. As he signed his name on a document with seven names already — three of which were scribbled out and illegible— those of Mercedes, Bernadetta, and naturally those of Ingrid and Sylvain, Petra curiously peered over his shoulder, eyes flickering like a dying hearth as they traced every stroke of the pen, to which Ingrid quickly picked up on.

“I haven’t talked to you much, Petra, but I hear you’re very studious.” She said, carefully easing her way into a proper persuasion. “I’m guessing you like to read as well.”

Petra looked up to make eye contact with her fellow student and gave a small smile and a nod. “I am much enjoying reading your culture. Your stories have shine to them like armor that has been polished”

Ingrid smiled at her words. “In that case, would you mind adding your name to the petition as well?”

Petra nodded again, this time more vigorously. “I would be liking that! These story gatherings sound as mystifying aspects of Fodlan customs!”

“… _Customs?_ ” The noblewoman parroted in a puzzled manner, after all, to her a simple book club was far from a cultural ritual.

Ashe glanced at his friend. “She’s curious about how we do things in Fodlan. It’s why we’ve been out together so much, actually.”

“Is that so?” Sylvain asked wryly and rhetorically, his expression quite smug.

Petra amicably wrapped her arm around Ashe’s shoulder, to which he reflexively let out a singular laugh, hoping Sylvain wouldn’t notice. “He is teaching me Fodlan’s commoner techniques! He is what you would call my ambassador of cultures!”

He was just a smidgeon embarrassed as he saw Sylvain raise his eyebrows in a way that indicated that he’d found something worth gossiping about, but only a smidgeon. He was not ashamed to be her informal cultural ambassador, quite the contrary, it had been nothing short of a joy.

After Petra eased back, Ashe passed the paper and pen on to her, to which after some mild hesitation, she swiftly jolted her name down, beaming excitedly. Extending the slip out to Ingrid, she bounced her shoulders eagerly. “I am having much anticipation for the story gathering!”

Ingrid took the paper and lifted the corners of her mouth in gratitude. “Thank you very much, you two.” She stated mostly calmly, but the lilt of her voice edged with just the tiniest droplets of elation. “I’ll be sure to let you both know if everything’s in order as soon as we get the go ahead.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sylvain echoed his more orderly friend as he rose from his chair, pushing it back in with a creak and inelegantly stretching.

Wordlessly, the two Faerghan nobles agreed to seek out more people with potential interest, and as such turned around with one last thankful nod. “Hopefully we’ll see you both on Wednesday” Ingrid chirped, and with that, she and Sylvain exited the library, their auras significantly more cheerful than when they had first arrived.

Ashe noticed far too well that Petra was struggling to sit still as she absentmindedly hugged her book tight, her grin wide, bright, and infectious. “A story gathering! How exciting!” She said in her best efforts to keep her volume down, but she was just too jubilant to keep it from bubbling up. “We will be sharing our stories from every corner of our homelands, am I correct? Oh, what story should I be telling? The Mountain of Lovers? The Serpent who had Eaten the Moon? The Divorce of the Earth and the Sky? Too many, there are too many ones that are good, I just cannot make certain of my mind!”

It was wonderful to see her so happy like this, especially compared to the start of the school year. Before they became friends, she seemed so…scared and confused and distant. Ashe couldn’t help but feel happy seeing her happy, herself.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to share any stories we’d like when we're there, but book clubs are specifically for discussing books.” Ashe sheepishly reminded her, as “story” was such a broad word in terms of definition. He couldn’t help but feel a bit bad potentially curbing her enthusiasm, but it’s something she still needed to know.

Petra’s face washed over with understanding, though also with a grain of disappointment. “I am seeing. While we are mostly telling our traditions through speaking, we are having books in Brigid, but many are not being found in this library. I had only found one in the days before, but it was in a story collection of stories of spirits and beasts from everywhere, and has been being borrowed by another one of the students ever since.” Ashe internally shuddered. He knew the global horror anthology book she was talking about, and he knew that Mercedes would check it out every week in hopes of memorizing its contents, hoping to one day share them by a bonfire and leave listeners haunted (and seeing her name on the petition, he hoped that Mercedes would talk about a different genre altogether). Petra shook her head with a dismissive scowl, crossing her arms as she finished her sentence. “It was not even one of the good ones, in any of the ways. It was of poor translation and it’s original point had been missed.”

And for a minute, a good, long, heart-wrenching minute, a veil of sadness drifted over her eyes. Nothing so blatantly obvious to a bystander, but Ashe knew that, whatever thoughts she had in that moment, she stung from them. “If I am being truth-telling, I do not remember any of the books from my home. I am only remembering the short versions. It has been a lot of time since I have last read anything from Brigid.”

Ashe swallowed silently and grimly. He didn’t know too much about Brigid’s state as an Adrestian territory, and he had a vague understanding of the colonization of Dagda, but he did know that, under martial law, both of their cultures had been eroding over the years. Dagda had experienced the worst of it, but he knew that Brigid was not safe from the effect, either.

He looked at the book in his lap, turning it around to see the cover again. The material was blue, embroidered in gold, the title shimmering as one would change the angle it was being held at. Under the title was an illustration bordered in the same golden thread, painted and faded and carrying a sense of familiarity even for new readers, depicting three friends — a lithe woman, a delicate man, and a larger man — walking down the same path. Arcing over them was a broadsword crossed with an axe, and where the two weapons intersected, a dragon head was placed. In itself, the book cover was a treasure, but inside was an adventure worth more than all of the gold-embroidered books in the world.

Ashe looked at the cover for a very long time — part of him concerned if Petra would notice and worry in turn — before he reached to his side and picked up the first novel in the series, examining its bindings almost nostalgically. This book was similar to it’s sequel, but the covers were green and the painting on the front solely of the woman, pointing her sword at a mountain of a man in mauve armor as their respective armies cheered behind them. Petra would enjoy the woman’s character, he thought. In many ways, she was like her, among other aspects, she was stalwart and warm, but human and knew herself to be.

She would love it. If he knew anything about her, he knew she would.

Ashe returned eye contact with her, and smiled slightly, her eyes ever-so-slightly shone in response.

“Petra?”

“Yes?”

He handed the first edition of the book series over to her, almost like extending an heirloom or relic onto a noble who rightly inherited it. “You could read this for the meeting if you’d like.”

Petra tilted her head to the side, a bit apprehensive. “Is that not the book you had been reading before the one you are currently?”

“Yeah.”

She tilted her head back to it’s prior angle. “Are you being sure?”

He broadened his smile. “Trust me, I think you’d like it. The main character of this one, at least. She reminds me a lot of you.”

He thought his eyes were deceiving him as Petra fluttered her eyes in surprise as a response, but she allowed herself to return his smile as she reached out to receive the novel he had offered her.  


“I am being sure that you are correct in your statement.”

* * *

The next day, Ingrid had approached Ashe and Petra at lunch (typically, the Professor would treat them both to fish sandwiches on the weekends, _“I’ll snag the last three for the three of us before they all get snatched up”_ she said, but it started to become more and more of a daily routine to discuss plans for the day, or rather “commoner techniques” to learn about once the school day was over), informing them that the petition was a success, and Seteth had given the students permission to congregate in the library as hoped. She went on to say that, while she didn’t expect everyone who signed to come, she’d appreciate as many people as possible to show up, as refreshments would be prepared courtesy of Mercedes and it’d be more of a welcoming party with some literature discussion than anything else. After Ingrid had left, Petra seemed very particularly excited. She had told Ashe just before the news had been dropped that she hadn’t been able to put the book he lent her down, but spared him any details on what exactly she liked. After all, they had a meeting specifically for that to attend to.

Come Wednesday, as he was idly lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, killing time before the appointed hour whilst taking a break from reading, Ashe heard a knock at the door. Rather, four rapid-fire strikes against the wood, followed by three more that were more spaced apart.

Knowing that was his cue to head out, the boy sat up and stood up, surveying his surroundings for something to bring to the meeting when he figured on picking up what he’d just put down. He gingerly picked up the rented copy of “Twin Heirs and the Shadow Emperor” — a vastly under-appreciated gem in his eyes — that he had laid down beside his pillow, and briskly paced to the door at the sound of a second series of knocks.

Petra was practically hopping with anticipation, hugging one of the versions of part two of “The Saga of Two Swords” close and boasting a beaming grin. “Come! Let us be getting the going! I am not wanting for us to be late!”

“You’re already on volume two?” Ashe inquired, suppressing a chortle.

“Yes, but that is not of importance!” She declared giddily, extending one hand to grab him by the sleeve. “Let us go!”

As such, she dragged him all the way from the dorms to the library. He didn’t protest. He was happy to accompany her, and happier still to see her so genuinely excited for something.

Upon arriving, maybe a bit later than anticipated, they were greeted by Ingrid and Sylvain seated at the second table down from the left. On the table were the books the other members wished to discuss at some length as well as two platters of sweets, one with frosted sugar cookies, the other with creme puffs dusted with powdered sugar. With them were Mercedes (as anticipated), Ignatz, Lysithea, Flayn, and Ferdinand, each of them acknowledging Ashe and Petra with either a nod, wave, or smile. Bernadetta, on the other hand, was a fair distance away from the rest of the group, all the way at the other side of the library, her own book and three cookies on her table. Seeing even more members, she sunk into her chair. A bit more out of the way was Linhardt, who sat at the table at the very back of the right row, characteristically with his head rested on his folded arms and fast asleep.

“Glad you could make it!” Ingrid greeted the two as she gestured for them to sit.

“Oh brother-” Bernadetta grumbled in the distance as her classmates sat down in their chairs with smiles on their faces. “Ingrid, you lied to me! I was fine when you said you’d make sure _he’d_ not say anything about that _thing of mine_ he found,” the Count’s daughter glared at Sylvain, who in response looked away inconspicuously. “But you also said that you didn’t think everyone would come!”

“Not everyone _did_ come.”

“It sure looks like an awful lot of people to me!” Bernadetta shrilly retorted, backing even further away from the rest of the group than the substantial distance she already had.

Ingrid sighed and shook her head, bringing a hand to her temple. “For a start, neither Annette nor Hilda are present, I can only assume they’re busy. Linhardt is…” she glanced back at the slumbering academic, resting even more peacefully and even deeper than before if his slack jaw and soft snoring were any indication. “… _Somewhat_ accounted for. Finally, all of the house leaders signed, and all of them told me in advance that they wouldn’t be coming. His Highness said he’d rather not tear any of the library’s book’s pages by accident again, Edelgard told me that’d she’d let us have our fun, but that she would be busy with other extracurricular activities, and Claude…he said he’s not allowed in here again…for…some reason.”

“The Radish Incident.” Lysithea dryly interrupted to clarify, Ignatz pushing up his glasses and looking down nervously at her words as if memories he’d rather have suppressed came flooding back to his mind. “We don’t talk about the Radish Incident.”

Ashe cocked his head to the side. “What’s the-?”

“ _We don’t talk about the Radish Incident._ ” Lysithea repeated, this time more firm and her expression growing increasingly dour, an inferno slowly starting to rage in the girl’s rosy eyes.

Ashe was now thoroughly convinced he didn’t want to know what she was talking about.

“Whatever the case is,” Bernadetta huffed as she pulled her book nearer, tracing the edges of the cover with her fingertips as she grimaced. “I’m…just going to stay in my half of the library, and you can stay in yours. Except maybe if I want another cookie. Maybe.”

“Help yourself, Bernie.” Mercedes called out to her, scooting her chair in. “I made them with love, just for the lot of us. I’d hate to seem them go to waste.” The young woman then turned her attention back to Ashe and Petra, pushing the platter of cookies towards them in order for them to be more in reach. “You two feel free as well.”

“I’ve tried one of the strawberry creme puffs earlier, they’re truly remarkable.” Ferdinand chimed in as Ashe took one of the baked goods from the plate, Petra following suit even though she was not much of a fan of sweets, wanting to be polite. “Mercedes, you said that they’re your own recipe. You simply must teach me how to make them, sometime.”

Mercedes giggled warmly. “That’s very sweet of you, I very well may when I have the time.”

“In all honesty, I was this close to not actually coming.” Lysithea admitted, expression softening. “I much prefer educational reading over recreational, not to say I don’t ever read anything without academic content, I just don’t do it very often. I originally only intended to sign the petition and leave the novel-readers to enjoy themselves, but Mercedes drove a hard bargain when she mentioned yesterday that she was providing treats for the first official meeting.” The girl guiltily looked to the side as the smiles on her companions grew. “I can also attest to creme puffs being...” Lysithea held her pause heavily, only to let out a deep, begrudging sigh. “…Quite scrumptious.”

At the smiles of her peers seeing her so uncharacteristically complimentary and open about her sweet tooth, most of all the louder snickers of Sylvain, the mage shot everyone in the room a fierce glower, which immediately silenced them. Ashe took this as an opportunity to actually try the cookie Mercedes had made, if not awkwardly to show Lysithea he wasn’t going to say anything more. The texture was light and buttery, but each little grain of sugar was like a firecracker of sweetness, and the icing smooth and and creamy. Delicious enough to have his smile return after being so swiftly intimidated prior, to which Mercedes smiled in reply seeing her classmate enjoy her baking.

Flayn cleared her throat, making herself known after mostly being a spectator to the chatter. “I will say that it is a great pleasure to be here today.” She stated so formally that it almost sounded as if she were giving a public speech. “I _did_ have to convince my brother quite a bit to allow me to join you, but he is a lover of literature, so he relented.”

“Well, never pegged Broccoli Man as a fan of recreational reading.” Sylvain commented with a stifled cackle. Ingrid promptly jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow and frowned icily at him. “Don’t call your superiors things like ‘ _Broccoli Man’_.” She whispered with a noticeable hiss.

Flayn responded to Sylvain’s remark with a soft, nervous laugh. “Well, he is not an admirer of today’s writing standards. He is a follower of what you would call the ‘old classics’, tales like ‘The Ballad of The Hero King’ or epics about the Saints. Modern writing he believes has gone in the chamber pot with its emphasis on appealing to a less than virtuous demographic with its content, if you understand what I am implying.”

Ingrid grimaced noticeably. “I believe I know what you mean…Sylvain convinced me to read ‘Tides of Dawn and Dusk’ once. He’s normally trustworthy when it comes to understanding proper literature, but he lost most of my trust with this recommendation.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Sylvain protested with a scoff.

“The plot was a convoluted, flaming piece of tripe that centered around having all the other cast members — all but a handful including the princes and princesses were more like caricatures than actual characters, many of them either clad in questionable attire or their minds perpetually in the gutter — fawn over the reader-insert main character for being perfect in every little quality in spite of how unreasonable that would actually be. Not to mention the rather _disturbing_ implications given how gratuitous the scenes describing said main character’s elder brothers and sisters — especially the Lilac Wyrm — got.”

Sylvain waved his hand nonchalantly “Agree to disagree. It got wild, especially by the third act, but it still had some really strong points, the lore is a lot better than people give it credit for, and you can’t say that the brothers and sisters were bland characters.”

“The Pearl Dancer literally solves every obstacle except the Tempest Scion’s deathly infection by singing the same seven-second magic song! _Even evaporating a lake of acid!_ ”

“And that’s really cool of her and adds to her being a powerful and interesting character!”

“Please, cease arguing.” Flayn cut in, her voice raised ever so slightly higher than usual and with an authoritative edge. “While that novel is one of the ones my brother complained about, I was only attempting to segue in to how he himself writes his own stories.”

“Oh, he does! They’re really good!” Bernadetta suddenly exclaimed from across the room. As eight pairs of eyes gazed upon her with curiosity, she dropped her grin and timidly quieted down. “Nevermind, you go on.”

“No,” Flayn called back with a slight simper. “I am pleased to hear that people still admire his work.”

Ignatz blinked with mild inquiry at Flayn’s odd word choice. “… _Still?_ ”

“You would enjoy his writing, Ignatz,” Flayn hurriedly said as if she didn’t hear his query. “Maybe we could read and discuss my brother’s fables another day.”

“Speaking of which,” Ferdinand interjected, chin elegantly tilted up and posture perfect. “I think that we should commence with the meeting. If I recall, there is no set in stone novel we were to discuss, so I am thinking we should speak about what we’ve all read this past week.”

Petra immediately jumped at the opportunity before her with her classmate’s words. Seeing her so eager and smiling so broadly, Ashe felt a sort of tickle beneath his cheeks. “I have been reading The Saga of Two Swords in the recent days!”

Sylvain smirked, not entirely surprised given the events that occurred but a few days ago. “Nice, how are you enjoying it?”

“It is of great quality, I have not been having the ability to put it down ever since Ashe had been recommending it to me! I have so far been making it to the second of the books, where the heroes are sailing to the Reaper’s Cove.”

“Now hold on one minute, before we discuss things any further, I have to ask…” Sylvain butted in, gesturing with his hands that Petra wait for a moment. “What version are you reading? The subtitle on the title page of the book.”

Petra turned her face to the side, eyeing her classmate warily. “Why is that of importance?”

“Just tell us, then we can tell you if you’re reading the best version.”

Ingrid sneered. “Says the one who likes one of the worst versions.” She mumbled scornfully.

Petra, pausing to understand what Sylvain meant, put her baked treat on the table and opened her copy to the page he directed her to, and read aloud. “…The Saga of Two Swords…Volume Two…Red and Winter…Blue and Storms…Green and Grass.”

Sylvain immediately groaned at full volume. “The literal worst one, are you kidding me?!”

“You’re only saying that because your favorite is Blue-Green Overlap, which, in my opinion, is even worse.” Ingrid rebutted with an emphatic raising of her finger.

Petra looked back and forth between the two Faerghan nobles. “I am not having understanding, what is making things so bad?”

“The version dictates who the main characters of the first half of the saga hook up with.” Sylvain explained with exasperation still heavy in his voice. “I can’t believe you’d not only pass up the version where the Thunder Prince gets with the Lady of Winds, but you got the version where she gets with _t_ _he Green Wolf._ ”

“The Thunder Prince and the Lady of Winds are hardly a healthy couple,” Ingrid retorted, crossing her arms. “On top of many other things, they quarrel to no end.”

“They’re plenty healthy. That’s just how some people show their love, by fighting. They have a lot of pent-up passion for each other.”

“If you call that romance, that would explain so much about you.” Ingrid countered frigidly.

“Oh yeah? Then what does your preferred version say about _you?_ Miss _‘Lady of Winds and Scarlet Shield’?_ ”

Lysithea rolled her eyes as the rest of the party remained speechless at the sudden outburst. “Are they serious?” To which Ignatz and Mercedes both shrugged apprehensively.

“The Scarlet Shield is a role model for knights everywhere with his unwavering virtue and devotion to his lady, and such devotion to someone as brave and warm as her blossomed into love, which even the Celadon Sword was quick to notice in every version!” Ingrid continued as if Lysithea never spoke, to which the mage responded with applying her hand directly to her forehead. “Besides, the Scarlet Shield loves her enough to allow the Lady of Winds to return to her beloved homeland, because may I remind you that she _dislikes_ her noble title and her heart forever belongs to the country she was raised in! He knows this and he still gives up everything he has in his hometown for her!”

Ashe nervously raised a finger to interject. “I-if I may,” he stammered as two flaring eyes locked onto him, and suddenly he felt like a deer staring down a hunter’s arrow. “The Green Wolf also allows her to go home, granted they’re from the same country, and even in other versions of the story they are close friends at the very least. They share quite a few tender moments when alone, and in the version where they get married, the Lady of Winds is described to live an incredibly happy life as she spends the rest of it with the Green Wolf and their daughter in the nature-abundant lands she loved so much.”

Both Ingrid and Sylvain looked at Ashe as if they didn’t even know him before Sylvain decided to speak up. “But the Green Wolf is so _boring._ He has like, what, four lines in the whole saga?”

“He was raised by horses, naturally he would have a limited vocabulary. And being quiet doesn’t necessarily make a character boring, he has a hard time trusting others after a lifetime of living alone or working for an abusive employer, and even can’t emote properly because of it until The Lady of Winds breaks down the dam in his heart. He loves the Lady of Winds dearly for being so strong and inspiring him to leave his unideal situation and devotes himself to her before he can pour his heart and struggles out to her as she did to him.”

Petra’s expression grew slightly forlorn as the discourse raged around her. “…I am enjoying the character of the Green Wolf, and the Lady of the Winds and the Scarlet Shield and Thunder Prince and all of the other people.”

“Yeah, sure, but which version sold the most copies? Which one did a famous bard dedicate a song to? The one where the Lady of Winds marries the Thunder Prince. Besides, in every version, they spend the most time together.” Sylvain argued whilst ignoring Petra, dropping his fist on the table and seeming rather satisfied in his logic.

"Because they're main characters and will naturally spend more time together than with the others." Ingrid shot back.

"Yeah, and it makes their romance the most developed!"

“The Green Wolf’s daughter exists in every version of the second half of the saga but is only mentioned to be born in the version where the Lady of Winds marries him.” Bernadetta blurted out, immediately covering her mouth with both hands when the attention of her associates suddenly fell upon her and she realized what she had said. “I’m sorry! I relate to him and he’s one of my favorite characters and I want him to be happy and I think him and the Lady of Winds just makes sense, please don’t get mad at me!” She cried as she pulled her hood over her head, sinking deep into her chair.

“I…kind of agree with Ingrid.” Ignatz murmured above the mayhem. “I think the level of love the Scarlet Shield shows the Lady of Winds when leaving his home to go to hers to make her happy is beautiful.”

“The Lady of Winds does the same thing when she marries The Thunder Prince.” Sylvain riposted. “She loves him enough to leave behind her homeland and unite her lawful estate to his.”

Ingrid sighed in disgust and whipped her head towards Lysithea, her braid flying over her shoulder in the process. “I can’t believe this. Lysithea? You’re the academic here, what’s your professional opinion on who the best match is for the Lady of Winds?”

“I’m staying out of this, for people older than I am, the lot of you are acting absolutely juvenile.”

“Mercedes?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t read ‘The Saga of Two Swords’, yet, so I don’t have a good enough opinion on the matter, but I wish you would all stop fighting over a book.”

Ingrid crossed her arms on the table, jostling the platters of sweets by accident, and out of annoyance Lysithea reached for another creme puff and bit into it indignantly. “Mercedes, this isn’t just about books, this is a war that’s been waged since the saga was first published.”

“I…am just enjoying the story and characters…” Petra awkwardly squeaked, her aura growing more and more discouraged by the minute. Ashe couldn’t help but feel sympathetic…he could see that she was blaming herself for the heated debate that had erupted in the sound of her voice and the specks of light in her eyes.

“I, for one, agree with Lysithea.” Ferdinand chided in as assertive a voice as he could manage in the situation, straightening his cravat. “You should all be ashamed for making mountains out of molehills, these characters are _fictional_ for goodness sakes! It doesn’t matter what version you enjoy, so long as the story itself is enjoyable!”

“Oh yeah?” Sylvain readied his counter-attack. “Did you read the books?”

“Of course!” Said the future Adrestian Prime Minister, self-assured as ever. “I have read every version, front to cover, over five times. The best nobles are cultured with the highest quality of literature in order to fully understand, enjoy, critique, and ponder the fine arts.”

“Then who did _you_ prefer The Lady of Winds with?”

Suddenly, Ferdinand paled in the face, one could practically hear his heart drop in his chest when confronted with the abrupt question as his smile grew more and more forced. For several heartbeats, he was rendered speechless, glancing around nervously.

“Well, out with it!” Ingrid pressured the young man, her patience having flown out the window completely.

Ferdinand folded his hands almost as if to pray before returning eye contact with his companions. “…I know this is far from a popular opinion, but…” with a deep, hesitant breath, he let loose his confession. “…The Marquis of Embers.”

Every student who was familiar with the book collectively groused, even Ashe as much as he hated doing so.

“The Marquis of Embers?!” Ingrid protested. “Are you joking?!”

“As I said, it is _not_ a _popular_ opinion, but The Marquis of Embers — similar to how you feel about the Scarlet Shield, Ingrid — is a kind man, a gentleman, a man of honor and respect, the perfect noble in every sense of the word and someone I hope to emulate one day. And the Lady of Winds…she is…” Ferdinand paused for a good long while, clearing his throat anxiously as he could feel the tension in the room rise. “…She is a warrior without equal, described as graceful and warm but untamed and free-spirited, one could not be blamed for being…well, enraptured by her…”

“Ohhh, I understand now,” Sylvain said with a creeping self-satisfaction in his tone as a mischievous, crooked grin consumed his face. “You’re living your fictional crush vicariously through the also-red-haired nobleman known as the Marquis of Embers — who you oh-so want to be just like — aren’t you, _Ferdinand?_ ”

Ferdinand’s face grew bright red with humiliation as some members of the group began to chortle and jeer while others simply shook their heads. “You are in no position to criticize me on fictitious infatuation, you heartbreaking lout! The Marquis of Embers and the Lady of Winds still have a far more wholesome and functional relationship than the Lady of Winds and the Thunder Prince, in any matter.”

“Listen, they’re there for each other when they need each other and comfort each other through the worst of it!”

“Yet they still speak of beating the stuffing out of one another!”

From there, the whole room burst out into a clamor, a three way (four, counting Ferdinand) argument on which love story was better, with feeble attempts from Mercedes, Lysithea, Ashe, and Petra to get things to quiet down. Remarks about the Thunder Prince here, insults about the Green Wolf there, jabs at Ferdinand sprinkled amidst it all, tensions were about as high as before any class mission. Having been silent in the debate until now and refusing to let the situation get any more out of hand, Flayn picked up her hard cover book and slammed it onto the table with a thundering, almost echoing, and masterful “ _Silence!_ ”

In shock at the smaller girl’s shout, everyone immediately did as she commanded of them, readjusting their seating positions to postures more formal.

“Enough is enough, as Mercedes and Ferdinand stated earlier, this is a work of fiction, and yet you tear at each other like crazed beasts over it! Events, people, and romances that had never happened should not be worth creating this level of discord.”

Everyone who had participated in the argument all looked down at Flayn’s scolding, her words were true and their actions had been, as Lysithea put it, juvenile. 

“Furthermore,” the girl went on, her voice growing softer and more eloquent seeing that her compatriots had calmed down. “I have read the original version of The Saga of Two Swords. The very first copy published, as my father…had it passed down to my brother…as is generational tradition, as our family has owned it since the date it was distributed. The Lady of Winds, in the original and intended version, wed no one, and returned to her homeland alone, where in her solitude and communion with nature, she attained enlightenment.”

“…The very first copy…” Ingrid breathlessly whispered in bewilderment.

“Did I not tell you just before that my brother was an admirer of the old classics?” Flayn asked her innocently, a soft and knowing smile on her lips. “You may ask him about the finer details when he has some time to talk. In any case…” she continued as she folded her hands on the desk, her expression level with the others. “Considering we were on the subject on The Saga of Two Swords, perhaps we should shift the conversation to a more pleasant place, shall we?” the girl paused in order to check if she had everyone’s full attention, she’d rather did not want another verbal war to spark once again. Before continuing, she leaned far to the other end of the table to take a cookie from the tray, Ignatz seeing her outstretch towards the platters decided to do her a favor and handed one to her when it became clear she couldn’t quite reach them. “Thank you." she told him briefly but kindly. "As I was saying, I believe that we should each talk about things we liked in the saga. It does not have to be commonly accepted, nor a rare opinion to stand out from the others, we simply must share what it is about the story that makes us happy, and let us be civil about anything we may disagree over.”

Petra shyly raised her hand, a bit cautious after the whole…debacle that unfolded in front of her, but Ashe could see that her optimism was growing. “May I be starting?”

The mint-haired cleric gently nodded in approval. “Absolutely.” She said in between bites of her treat.

“Well…I have been hearing that she is among the most beloved of the people who were written in this story, but my favorite of the characters is the Lady of Winds. I am, what you say, relating to her, being so far from home, and still missing it even when surrounded by friendly faces.” Petra rested her cheek on her hand as she became cloaked in reverie. “I am admiring her strength in times that are uncertain, and am wishing to be like that in my own darkest times.”

“Hey, I’ll second that. The Lady of Winds is great.” Sylvain chirped in reply. He then looked over at Ferdinand, sitting by Flayn at the end of the table. “Ferdinand, I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I had a huge crush on her, too, when I first read it.”

“No offense taken,” Ferdinand stated, having his usual cheer return. “If anything, I apologize for my unbecoming conduct.”

Sylvain waved his arms casually before putting both hands behind his head as he often did when relaxed. “All is forgiven.”

“Very good, we’re all learning something and kindling friendships.” Flayn commended. “Next?”

It took a good couple of seconds before Ashe realized Flayn meant him. “Oh, uh, me? Well…” he glanced over at Petra, who returned his gaze with an ingenuous smile. “…Well, I can’t give away too much for the sake of those who haven’t finished reading it, but…by the second half of the story I feel like it’s a very compelling tale about never losing hope in even the most dire of circumstances, and that the world is worth saving. Even when you run into the worst mankind has to offer, good people will always exist and work to leave the world a better place than when they first arrived.”

“That was lovely,” Mercedes hummed from across the table, holding her face with both hands and leaning on the wooden surface. “Now you’re making me want to read The Saga of Two Swords.”

“Next?”

Everyone who had read the series prior, even Bernadetta, brought their own unique perspectives to the table that night. As the hours crawled by, Ashe felt like he’d seen the world in six different new ways by the time everyone was finished. When they ran out of people who read the books, Lysithea discussed a mystery novel regarding the assassination of a highly dysfunctional and scandal-ridden noble family’s matriarch and the succession crisis that ensued, and Mercedes brought up a horror mystery novel about a young girl with a supernatural connection to bees who sought to catch a brutal killer who skulked the mountain town and ran girls the main character’s age through with a javelin (to which Ashe had to cover his ears through the more horrific details that he was sure would haunt him later that night). Linhardt, who had miraculously slept through the entire argument prior, finally stirred awake and, before deciding to leave for his actual bed, shared some tidbits from the book of theories on the Crest of Maurice he had fallen asleep to. When that was done, Flayn was about to recite one of her brother’s fables when everyone had realized how incredibly late it had gotten, and as such the first official meeting of the official Garreg Mach Book Club, hopefully of many, came to a close. Everyone was sure to take a few extras of Mercedes’ sweets, and left for their respective rooms.

* * *

It being almost midnight, Ashe and Petra decided to walk back to their rooms together, the autumn night air crisp and chilly, but in a way that would warm the heart. The sky was cloudless, and the moon more radiant than normal. Or maybe it was as bright as ever and only seemed to give off more light due to high spirits. Who could say?

“Did…you have a good time?” He asked sheepishly, the massive debate still leaving a part of him a bit sore.

“Very much!” Petra replied in a singsong voice, a rare but welcome tone from her. “I am happy that all of the things resolved in the end, and I am happy as well to talk about the book series!”

Ashe chuckled awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head. “It got kind of scary there for a bit, but…yeah, I’m really glad we all made up by the end.”

“You will not be mad at me if I am liking a version that is not your favorite, right?” She asked in a somewhat teasing tone, betrayed even more so by her shining smile that would make the moon jealous.

“Of course not.” He told her with a sincere smile of his own. “You’ve always had good taste, anyway, so whichever version you like best, I’m sure is well deserving of your acclaim.”

She giggled at his words, and it was like music to him. She turned around to face him, walking backwards and fiddling with her braid. “You are sweet. I am thanking you for introducing me to more of your customs.”

In that moment, he questioned once again since when his chest started feeling warmer around her. “Anytime.”

“I am also thanking you for introducing me to A Saga of Two Swords.” She continued, still walking backwards and catching him in the eye, her own glittering like shards of polished bronze. “I am loving it greatly, and I am eager to see what will be coming next. So, I thank you.”

The warmth then spread to his face, feeling like a rapidly blooming flower. “I’m glad to hear it, it’s one of my personal favorites, and it has it’s fair share of twists and turns.”

Petra just stared, still smiling, and Ashe dared hope that she was staring out of fondness. 

“I am looking forward to it, then.” And with that, she gracefully spun back around.

They continued to walk, in relative silence, up until they reached Petra’s door, at which point, they had to part.

“I was having much fun, tonight. I thank you.”

Ashe shuffled his feet and knew he was smiling far wider than he had any right to. “I had a lot of fun, too.”

“We will be meeting tomorrow for learning more commoner techniques?”

“Of course.”

“The time that is usual, and the place that is usual?”

“Yup.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for another handful of heartbeats, though Ashe’s own grew just the slightest bit quicker.

He adored her when she was happy.

“Well…” Petra murmured with a veil of hesitation over the tone of her voice, pulling her room key out of her pocket and unlocking her door, her hand resting on the handle before she could finish her sentence. “…You have a night that is good.”

Ashe nodded shyly. “…You, too.”

She gave him one last smile before opening the door and retreating to her quarters for the night. When Ashe returned to his own room and stared at the ceiling while lying in bed like he did not moments before Petra summoned him for the book club meeting, he still had trouble falling asleep. He was too blissful to do so.

Rockier parts aside, tonight was one of the best nights he had ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Golly, I hope this wasn't too mean-spirited. I did mean to sort of poke fun at shipping wars in this fic (just so you know, if you know what shipping war I'm drawing parallels to, no matter who you prefer the real "Lady of Winds" with, that's totally fine, ship and let ship), but I worry if I went a bit overboard. If so, I'm sorry. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed!  
> Also, with the book Mercedes mentions near the end, that is a reference to one of my favorite horror movies, props if you know which one I'm talking about! ;D  
> Anyway, God bless, and have a great day!


End file.
